It's a Match

Two queer girls scroll through an app. Abby’s thumb stops. Panda’s profile smiles back. A match. Same street. Abby walks over. Panda waits on her porch steps, sun catching every curve. They lock eyes for two seconds, then step inside and barely shut the door. Clothes drop on the hallway floor. Fingers meet warm skin. Palms glide over the fine dark hair that lines Abby’s belly; another hand parts the softer tuft between Panda’s thighs. Tongues find nipples already stiff, first one, then the other, sucking until they glisten. A thigh wedges between open legs and starts a slow grind. Juice catches on skin and spreads in a wet streak. A few steps farther and the back door swings open. Abby steers them onto warm grass, lowering Panda onto a folded blanket. She pushes her knees wide, mouth tracing the inside of each plush thigh until the scent of arousal hits her tongue. Long licks turn to quick flicks; Panda arches, grabs fistfuls of red curls. Fingers slip inside and curl, a steady rhythm that matches the hips now rocking above her face. Every moan rolls across fence lines and backyard windows. Sweat beads. Sunlight slides along skin dotted with freckles and fine hair. Neither plans on stopping until breath runs ragged and the neighbors know both their names.